Page 30 of Heartless Sinner

Marla

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The bodyguard that Vince picked out for me was nice enough. His name was Jack, his hands were the size of my head, and he opened doors for me. Probably the best I could ask for in a bodyguard.

I didn’t like the feeling of someone always at my elbow. I hadn’t realized until now how lucky I’d been, being a part of a less powerful family. I had chaffed against the idea of being in the mafia and had wanted a way out, but now I was realizing that I’d had it easy at our level. I could go where I wanted by myself, do whatever I wanted, even go to college and have fun without having to do anything about my family, other than not tell people anything about them.

Now I had a bodyguard, and probably would for the rest of my life, because I was going to be a Russo, and the Russo’s were powerful and had enemies.

On the other hand… I thought back to this morning, to how Vince had washed my hair and held me, how he had treated me with such care, almost reverence. Like I wasn’t just some good fuck but someone he actually valued. Wasn’t that what I wanted in a husband?

And being powerful came with perks. Perks like money and connections, the kind of comfortable life I craved. And justice for Dmitri. I couldn’t forget that. I needed to find out who killed him and make them pay.

Hopefully, personally.

I hadn’t realized I was someone capable of violence. After all, my distaste for it was part of why I had wanted to get away from this life. But now, knowing that somewhere out there was the person who’d so violently killed my brother…

I wanted to be the one to snatch the life right out of their chest.

Mom and Papa were no longer in the emergency safehouse but had been moved to another one, a small cramped and hidden apartment that was located in the meat freezer at a butcher’s shop. We went into the large walk-in freezer, swung back one set of shelves, and stepped through into the connecting room.

Because walk-in freezers were so insulated, the walls so thick, nobody could hear any noise made in the apartment, and it kept the cold inside the freezer so Mom and Papa weren’t wearing parkas all the time.

“Oh, Marla, darling.” Mom came to me at once and pulled me into her arms. “It’s all so horrible.”

“Is Papa not here?” I asked once we ended the hug. “He should be staying here.”

“Bah. You know your father. He wants revenge.”

I frowned. “He needs to let Vincent handle this.”

Mom took my hands, her lips pursing. “Is it true then? You engaged yourself to Vincent Russo?”

“You don’t need to act like it’s the end of my life. Weren’t you just saying I needed to find myself a husband? And the Russo’s are powerful and rich. What more could you possibly ask for from me?”

Mom squeezed my hands. “The Russo boys aren’t to be trusted! One of them is an associate, a lawyer. You know how dishonest lawyers are—”

“We kind of need lawyers, I mean look at what happened—”

“—and that second one has a new girl on his arm every week! And Vincent is a capo, you know what they’re like—”

“Mom. This was the only way I could get the power and resources to find out what happened to Dmitri!” I pulled my hands away, frustrated.

Mom scoffed. “As if we couldn’t figure it out ourselves. It was probably one of the Russo brothers themselves! You know Dmitri had gotten into a spat with Marco about girls they’d both been dating. They were both always finding girls, having sex with them, then discarding them. Sometime the same ones! Your poor brother hadn’t learned how to settle down.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes at her. Yeah, God forbid Mom get on Dmitri’s case to settle down when she could just badger her daughter instead.

“What do you think is more likely?” Mom demanded. “That some random other family decided to kill your brother? Or that one of the Russo brothers got into a beef with him and killed him, and then tried to cover it up! You’re not a stupid girl, Marla. You know that what happened to Dmitri and the sniper attack on your father are simply too different.”

“I don’t think Vincent is the type of person to kill someone so cruelly, or to hide it,” I pointed out. “His job is to take care of people like that!”

“What if it wasn’t him?” Mom shot back. “He’d cover for his brother’s mistake if he’d killed Dmitri. And then you come along and play right into his hands! You offer to marry him!”

My stomach flipped at my mother’s insinuation. “Vincent wouldn’t do that,” I said, but my voice sounded feeble and weak, even to my own ears.

Seriously, how well did I really know him?

One date, and two rounds of passionate sex, and I was ready to believe that a mafia man wouldn’t hurt someone I cared about? I was ready to believe that Vince was some good guy that would never hurt me? How stupid and foolish did I want to be?

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